


Room.

by bereweillschmidt



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Men Crying, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24890206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereweillschmidt/pseuds/bereweillschmidt
Summary: Just a tiny thing about Obi-Wan dealing with Qui-Gon's death.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Kudos: 13





	Room.

Obi-Wan walked numbly through the Hall of the Temple. The cremation of Qui-Gon’s body had just ended, and in the midst of all the promises and thoughts in the future, he was now feeling overwhelmed by the loss of his Master. He kept himself from falling by putting one hand against the wall, levering his weight against it. There was a panic inside of him, something that wanted to blame him for Qui-Gon’s death.

Depa Bilaba was nearby and noticed the Padawan’s pain. She got closer.

“Padawan Kenobi, I’m so sorry.” She put a hand on his shoulder, Obi-Wan looking up at her in a fright. She winced at his reaction. She hadn’t meant to scare him. “Is there anything I could do for you?” Obi-Wan’s mind was rushing back to a normality that didn’t exist anymore, he wanted to smile and brush it off, to not to keep on worrying her. He noticed her sadness. He had been her friend after all.

The young man shook his head, taking short breaths. She flattened her lips in a sad smile and bowed to him in a good-bye. Obi-Wan forced himself to keep on walking to the quarters he still shared with his Master.

He dreaded the feeling of looking inside, to see Qui-Gon in every souvenir he had around, on the walls, on the unmade bed. To smell him and to form this false hope that he would enter once again inside the room to whine about the mess he had caused and his Padawan’s lack of willing to clean it. Both liked to break that one rule, because in the end… the neatness of their quarters would erase their identities in it.

The swish of the metallic door brought him back, and just as he had predicted, the room smelled of Qui-Gon. That particular smell of dust and earth, combined with his sweat and aftershave. For a Jedi, whom supposedly could not have any possessions, he collected many bizarre objects from planets he had visited before Obi-Wan’s time. 

The unmade bed of his Master, promising the return of his big body to rest. His holocrons sitting on the table between their beds, Obi-Wan’s bed was made and it sat blandly being lit by the moonlight that leaked through the window. Obi-Wan fell to his knees, a loud sob that had been forming for a while in his throat liberated itself with pain in his chest.

What else was he supposed to do?

He had worked hard to be by Qui-Gon’s side. He wanted to be everything his Master expected from him and much more. He had failed sometimes but in others, the smile that reached his eyes brought him more joy than anything else in the Galaxy. Qui-Gon was difficult to please, and Obi-Wan always strived to be the best for him.

But nothing had prepared him for the Sith’s fight. Obi-Wan had been reckless… if he had just run any faster, if he had used the Force to stop the lightsaber—

He had dwelled all the trip back from Naboo on it. The young kid Qui-Gon had picked up only observed him and then took his hand. He had mumbled something that now Obi-Wan couldn’t remember, but he remember smiling. He had to keep himself together, the new kid was going to be his Padawan after all.

And with the loss of his Master weighing on his shoulders, he felt unsure of being a proper Jedi Knight. Would he be worth of the title? Did he have what it took to be a Jedi Knight? He had never witnessed another Padawan getting the title just after their Master had become one with the Force.

The tears had stopped, and now, with a heavy breathing and hurtful eyes, he stood and gathered every object from the walls, tables, beds with the Force to his hands.

Rocks, wooden boxes, metallic jewelry, little masks, tiny beads and many other things started gathering in his palms. He could remember some of them from his missions with Qui-Gon. And then he saw a twig from that wretched branch that had saved Obi-Wan’s life many rotations ago.

He had thought Qui-Gon had gotten rid of it once they had reached Coruscant. Obi-Wan let the rest of the objects fall and he took the twig. The despair of not being able to ask him about it, the thankfulness of Qui-Gon appreciating a being that had saved his Padawan’s life, all of this brought him back to the overwhelmed state of crying. He hugged the small twig, nothing could bring his Master back as the branch had once done with him.

Obi-Wan took one of Qui-Gon’s old robes, smelled it and tried very hard to not to end up in tears again. He put the rest of the objects in it, then secured them within the fabric with a neat bow. He could see the sun rising from the window, he felt very tired. His eyes heavy from all the tears he had shed.

With his comm, he called a droid. After a few minutes, the swish of the door let the flying thing enter the room. Obi-Wan was sprawled on the old couch Qui-Gon had always used for studying.

“Padawan Kenobi, is this all you have gathered?” Obi-Wan nodded. “What of the rest of the room?” There was a pause, Obi-Wan sighed before standing up. The droid had hooked the robe that contained all objects under itself.

“I don’t think any other Master in the Order would care for it so you can take them out as well. Has Master Yoda given you—“

“Your new room is just down the Hall, Padawan Skywalker is already waiting there.” Oh. He had forgotten about his new Padawan for a moment. Obi-Wan took a last breath of the smell of Qui-Gon, trying to not let the pain govern his senses. _You have to let go, we know we are going to be one with the Force one day, it’s inevitable._ He repeated inside his head. He walked outside the room, the swish of the door blocking the sight of the droid.

He turned to his left and saw the rest of the Hall stretching with their statues and great lamps. On one of the doors, Anakin Skywalker was standing with his new robes in his arms. He spotted Obi-Wan, and shyly lifted his arm and waved it. Obi-Wan walked towards him.

“Mr. Obi-Wan, sir. They woke me up to come here. Do you know what are we waiting for?” His blonde hair almost covered his eyes and Obi-Wan wondered if he was going to miss it once the ritual of the braid would start. “You look tired, have you slept?” Obi-Wan sniffed, he knew his voice would brake if he talked about what he had done.

He had left his old self behind just a few minutes ago.

“This is our new room, Anakin.” Obi-Wan touched the panel on one side, opening the door with a swish. The quarters were arranged differently to Qui-Gon’s. 

“All of this is ours?” Anakin entered with great wonder, looking up and down. “Can I choose my bed, Mr. Obi-Wan?” Obi-Wan smiled, then nodded.

“You can, and you have to call me _Master_ Obi-Wan.” Anakin apologised and went to pick the bed near the window, he put his new clothes on top of it and let himself fall on his back. He sighed happily. “Don’t fall asleep. We have to start with your training today.”

“I know.” The child replied with his eyes still closed. Obi-Wan took the other bed, sat upon it and took the twig in his belt to let it rest on the frame of his bed. As a reminder that he was still alive and he had purpose in this life.

He observed the child and wondered if he was the Chosen One as his Master believed.


End file.
